Stepping Towards Destiny
by AmandaFaye
Summary: After several years of widowhood, Carolyn Muir is ready for change.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: Carolyn Muir, Martha, Jonathan, Candy, the Muir in-laws, Brad and Emily, Daniel Gregg, and Claymore all belong to Fox studios and the estate of R.A. Dick. All other characters who are not canonical belong to Mary and Amanda. Thanks to Mary for beta reading and tweaking.

Late July, 1968

"Mrs. Muir--" Martha Grant began hesitantly.

"Yes?" the young widow asked, looking up from the newspaper she was perusing in search of employment.

"I hate to tell you this, but the Muirs just pulled up in the driveway."

Carolyn sighed, despite all her good intentions to try and be more tolerant of Bobby's parents. After all, they had lost their only son and they meant well, but their constant stream of advice seemed more like orders most of the time.

"I could tell them that you're out," Martha offered.

Managing a feeble smile, Carolyn shook her head. Truly, she did not know how she'd have managed if Martha had not agreed to stay on and help out for minimal pay to accompany her room and board being provided. The older woman not only was a fantastic and creative cook, a second in the home loving presence for her children, great at managing things like shopping for bargains, but was a protective and supportive friend. Since both women were fairly recent widows, they could also share in the process of grief, even if each one's marriage was vastly different from the others. "I can't ask you to lie for me, Martha, even if it's tempting. Besides, they'd just come back or sit here waiting. I'd wind up trapped in the bathroom for hours."

Grimacing, Martha nodded.

"You could stall for me, for a minute maybe?" Carolyn added as her friend turned to go admit their uninvited guests. "I need a minute to put myself together." She glanced down at her old slacks and shirt and grew very aware of her clean, make up-free face. It was comfortable and a perfectly acceptable for being around the house outfit, but she knew Marjorie would be perfectly coifed and put together, from eyebrow pencil to shoes. Somehow, the contrast always made her feel completely inadequate.

"No problem," Martha agreed. "I wonder what my name is going to be today, Betsy, maybe? Or Ruth? I've never been that before, it'd be a nice change."

Despite the feeling of dread clenching her stomach, Carolyn had to smile.

More minutes than she would have expected later, there was a sharp rap on the door and she could hear Martha letting in the Muirs as she hurriedly pulled on her second-best Sunday dress and jammed her feet into what she hoped were matching shoes. There really wasn't time to do more to her face than dash on lipstick, but that could not be helped. With a final sigh and a glance in the mirror, Carolyn pasted a smile on her face and headed out to greet Ralph and Marjorie.

As she stepped into the small living room, that expression faltered for a moment upon seeing the shopping bags sitting near the threadbare sofa on which her in-laws sat.

"Ralph, Marjorie, how nice to see you," she managed to get out as they came to their feet for expected, yet stilted, hugs.

As she stepped back, her eyes could not help but flick toward the bags, though she had a sinking feeling she did not need to ask what was inside.

"We were hoping the children would be here," Marjorie began. "We brought them some presents."

"They're over playing at the neighbors."

"Yes, Alice mentioned that," Ralph frowned. "Lynn, are you sure that they are the right kind of companions for Candace and Jonathan? Their parents are not in the social register. He's not even in management."

"No, but he makes sure Martha always brings home a good cut of meat from the butcher shop, sometimes a little extra. And, his wife is a great baby-sitter if Martha and I both need to be doing something else at the same time."

"I'm sure they're good people, but they won't be able to help advance your position, or the children's," Ralph shook his head. "It's never too early to think on these things, my girl. Bobby was aware of the need to choose your friends carefully."

"Yes, I know, and I have," Carolyn said pointedly.

Clearing her throat, Marjorie intervened, "As I was saying, we brought over a few things for the children. I was in New York, just doing a bit of shopping and Saks had the most adorable dresses just in, so I had to get something for Candace. Then we couldn't not get Jonathan a gift, now could we? Oh, don't worry about it, everything was on sale," the older woman added in a condescending tone that made Carolyn sincerely doubt that. "I just kept finding items I knew the children would adore and need. You know, good clothes are an investment, aren't they, dear?"

"Quite right," Ralph nodded. "You get what you pay for." He did not look that happy about the "pay for" part of the sentence, though.

With all the grace she could muster, Carolyn forced her smile to stay in place and thanked them.

"We didn't forget you, either," Ralph put in gruffly. "Go on, tell her."

"I know you haven't bought anything new for yourself since Bobby died. You know, he was always so proud of how well his wife dressed, and dear, you can't let that slip now, just because he's gone. So, I picked up one or two dresses and a nice suit for you. I had to guess the sizes, but I have noticed the colors you like, and if you need to return them, the receipts are saved."

"That really was not necessary," Carolyn bit out. She could accept gifts for her kids, even if she hated having to do so. For what the Muirs had paid on Candy's alone, things she bet her tomboy daughter would hate, they could probably have eaten for a week. However, she would not accept charity for herself. "In fact, I wish you hadn't. I just don't expect you to provide clothes for us all. I do understand you wanting to help your grandchildren, but as for me—"

"You are their mother, dear," Marjorie said firmly, as if Carolyn needed reminding!

"I know that, but I can take care of myself."

The glance the Muirs exchanged said otherwise and Carolyn grew very aware of the scuff marks on her shoes and the fact that instead of Macy's, she was shopping at Sears and Eckerd's for clothes and make-up.

"Look, I appreciate it, but we're fine."

There was an unpleasant silence and then Ralph asked, "Do you think the children will be home soon?"

"Probably not for a few hours yet; little Ellie had asked if Candy and Jonathan could go to see _The Happiest Millionare _with her and her brother, then they were all going to Shakey's for pizza." Despite her annoyance, Carolyn had to smile to herself. Jonathan was addicted to pizza.

"I see," Marjorie frowned at the low-class entertainment. "Perhaps it's time for us to go. You will be sure the children get their gifts?"

"Of course," Carolyn nodded, trying to think of a way to suggest that they be sure and take her "gift" along with them.

"Good to see you again," Ralph cleared his throat. "We'll come back when the kids are home and have a real visit."

After they had gone, Carolyn found that she was shaking inside, purely from rage. "I KNOW they meant well, but right now, I'd like to take every bit of what they bought and call Goodwill, especially what they got me."

"I don't blame you," Martha nodded.

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of MY kids," Carolyn fumed, pacing as she did so. "And, if I needed money for new clothes, I'd ask my parents before asking them. What's next, suggesting we move in with them? Or, will they try to find me a new husband?"

"I'm sure Mr. Thompson would," Martha shrugged. "He'd at least offer, from what you've told me about him."

"It wouldn't go farther than that, even if I wanted it to," Carolyn sniffed. "Face it, Martha, as long as I live here, the Muirs will want to have a say so in how I do things, and my parents-- I love them, but they can be overly helpful."

"They both do mean well," Martha attempted.

"It feels like charity," Carolyn frowned. "I know we're family, but relying on them would diminish me to myself. I can't do that."

To herself, Martha thought that Mrs. Muir's late husband had done enough of that without anyone else striking a blow to Carolyn Muir's ego. Her mind drifted back to all the tears that man had caused his wife to shed.

Aloud, she asked, "Are you going to return them?"

Sighing, Carolyn picked up a pretty dress from the bag. It was lovely, albeit not quite her taste. "I don't want to hurt them, and the kids do need some new things, but, it still—" Her voice trailed off, and for once, she was unsure how to express herself.

"Do you keep your pride and take stand--" Martha began.

"--And insult the children's grandparents in the process," Carolyn added.

Actually, though she'd never say it aloud, Martha thought it might do Mr. Muir a world of good to be insulted by someone standing up to him. She merely nodded and continued, "Or do you accept and feel worse about yourself."

"Talk about a rock and hard place," Carolyn sighed. Picking up the elegant, but completely not right for anything she was involved in, beaded jacket that was made to slip over a matching dress, she shook her head. "Where can I wear this? The PTA meetings are not formal. Church isn't _**that **_formal."

"My guess would be the country club."

Making a face, Carolyn remarked, "So, I can return this without feeling guilty; I'd never use it. Besides, dry cleaning costs too much."

Martha picked up a corner. "This material would wash, if it were not for the frou-frou," she noted with a jaundiced eye on the sparkles. "But it's there, and if I tried to remove it and couldn't, you just have a ruined dress."

"At least the kids' things are not as fancy," Carolyn mused. "What's this?" she asked, picking up what was clearly a school uniform jacket. "Durham Elementary does not require uniforms." Her frown deepened. "Kincaid? That's the private school that feeds into Dexter. They want me to send Jonathan to boarding school? I won't stand for that, even if they pay tuition."

"Which I bet they plan to," Martha agreed. "Wonder where they want to ship Candy off to?"

"Maybe nowhere," Carolyn looked disgusted. "She is "only a girl." Some of that man's ideas are positively medieval."

"I was thinking Bronze age."

For a moment, the two women shared a smile.

"I'm not sending either of my kids to boarding school," Carolyn declared.

Martha nodded, "They are your children, after all, and I think they can learn a lot more about life from attending regular schools than being sheltered at some fancy private academy, if you don't mind my saying so." The last was said slightly sheepishly, as Martha recalled her 'place.'

Picking up on her tone, Carolyn admonished, "Martha, you are always free to speak your mind with me. I value your opinions."

The older woman nodded. Be that as it may, she did not think Mrs. Muir was ready to hear that it was time to cut the apron strings and take a stand and/or pull up stakes and make a new start away from those that meant well but wanted to run her life.

Absently, Carolyn picked up a magazine.

"Why do you have a copy of _Maine Life_?" Martha blurted out. "Are you planning a vacation?"

"No," Carolyn shook her head. "I saw an ad to get a sample copy and well, a free read is the best kind these days. Plus, they might have use for something I could write, some kind of general interest article."

"Can't hurt to try," Martha agreed. "I was planning on a light supper tonight, since the kids probably won't want much, if anything."

"That's fine. I am really not hungry either," Carolyn sighed, "Nothing like family to ruin your appetite."

"You're going to blow away in a strong wind," Martha admonished gently.

"So, if Sally Field gets tired of being the _Flying Nun_, I could take over," Carolyn quipped as she thumbed through the pages absently.

"Is there anything interesting?" the older woman asked as she turned to go to the kitchen and start chopping salad things.

"Too early to tell, really, but maybe," Carolyn replied. "Maybe there's someone in the classifieds wanting a freelance writer, or something." Writer would be ideal, but after the encounter with her in-laws, "or something" would suffice.

When her employer grew very quiet and looked at one page for several minutes, Martha had to ask, "You found one?"

"What? Oh, no, not really, it's just -- there's an ad for a house that sounds -- like the sort of place I've always dreamed of finding. It even has a name; Gull Cottage."

"I never saw the sense in naming houses or other inanimate objects," Martha shook her head. "Well, this is not getting anything done, so if you don't need me for anything else here, I'll go see about the laundry or supper, or both."

"Hmm? Oh, go on, Martha. I just want to study this a bit more."

XXX

The evening passed quietly. The children babbled happily about the party, but Martha had been right, neither was all that hungry after pizza. They seemed pleased with the clothes, except for the extra frilly dress and the school uniform, which made them pull faces like the ones which appeared when it was time to dose either Candy or Jonathan with cough syrup. However, neither was overly impressed.

When the adrenalin wore off and the two began to droop, Carolyn and Martha tucked them in before retiring themselves; Carolyn to the miniscule room she called hers and Martha to the sleeper sofa. Sometimes, that worried Mrs. Muir, but Martha did insist she was fine there and it would not be proper for her to take the master bedroom, such as it was.

Carolyn had noticed her moving stiffly many mornings, though, and suspected it had something to do with the horrible mattress on that piece of junk.

Around noon the following day, while Candy and Jonathan were out helping Martha with the shopping; (they were still young enough that getting a treat from the gumball machine turned it into a delightful adventure) and Carolyn was hard at work trying to get past her writer's block, there was a knock on the door.

Sighing, she got up from the mostly empty page to see who it was.

"Laura! Are Jack and Jenny here with you?" she smiled in delight as her cousin-in-law stepped into the apartment.

"No, Jen's at vacation Bible school and Jack is at work, so I decided to take a day trip to see my favorite relative by marriage. Oh, heck, Carrie, you are my favorite relative period." The black haired woman frowned. "But, I do not like those dark circles under your eyes. Don't tell me Hazel was right and you're sitting here grieving yourself to death. Honey, we both know Bobby Muir was not worth it."

"ARGH! I love Harriet and Hazel, most days, but they can drive you insane with their -- hypothesizing. I am NOT mourning Robert Muir," Carolyn growled. "Just the fact that it's hard to make ends meet without his income."

"That's worth some tension. You KNOW Jack and I will help, if we can?"

"Yes, but I don't want--"

Holding up a hand, Laura nodded, "I know, I know, but if you need it, for the kids, we're here, got that?"

"Yes, for the kids, but not now."

Looking unconvinced, Laura nodded. "It's there if you need it, and better us than the Muirs."

"I'd have to be totally desperate to go to them," Carolyn sighed. "They already try to impose their will, or at least Ralph does, on me."

Laura took a sip of tea and shook her head. "If I weren't a lady, there would be a few words I would love to use about him."

"How did you get a shy daughter like Jenny?" Carolyn laughed.

Considering this, the other woman pursed her lips. "Well, both your cousin and I are very outspoken and gabby, so I guess someone has to listen. I'd say things skip generations, but Aunt Emily is sweet, so are you, and I think Candy will be. I'm hoping Jonathan will grow up to take after YOU, not his dad or grandfather on that side. On the other hand, some things do skip. My parents adopted me to make their marriage more -- stable? Solid?" She shrugged. "It only made the tension silent, I think, but I'm so nuts over Jack that I still feel newly married after ten years."

"He feels the same."

Laura grinned and winked. "And, look at you, opposite situation. Uncle Brad and Aunt Emily have a fantastic marriage, but honey--" Her expression turned sad. "I do wish you could find someone wonderful -- and I DO NOT mean Blair. Don't get me wrong, I like him, he's charming in an odd way. But then, he never chased me. I will say this, he's not one to chase skirts or be deceptive. He's a blowhard, but an honest one. I'd just hate to add him to the family tree."

"You won't have to," Carolyn crossed her heart. "I do have the kids to factor in, and can you see Blair as a daddy?"

"Only if I get so drunk I see pink elephants."

"I've seen you drunk once."

"I did not like being that way, so there has not been a repeat," was the breezy reply. "Pink elephants are not my favorite thing to look at." Absently, Laura picked up the Maine magazine. By now, it had gotten a touch worn because for some reason, Carolyn kept picking it up and flipping to the ads. She could not get that wonderful cottage out of her mind. She had even dreamed about it. To herself she laughed. Next thing you know, she'd be saying "Last night I dreamt I went to Gull Cottage," like the lady in Rebecca had Manderly. Easily flipping to the page in question, Laura raised her brows. "This reminds me of a Sears wish book page. Someone's been staring that this often enough that the magazine almost opens to this. So, are you after fresh blueberries, syrup, or -- what?"

Flushing, Carolyn said, "Oh, it's silly."

"Spill," Laura demanded.

"There's a house for rent, and well, it just speaks to me."

"So, when are you moving?"

"What? Oh, it's just a dream; I couldn't—" Carolyn began.

"Sure you could. Jack and I would miss you like crazy, but a fresh start sounds like what you need."

"Isn't that a little extreme to avoid my in-laws?"

"Considering who your in-laws are, no."

Indecision filled Carolyn's face; she was torn between what she could admit to herself now that Laura had pointed out the pink elephant in the living room and a sense of duty. "Uprooting the kids, leaving family, I don't know--"

"The kids will adapt, and if it's as wonderful as you say, they'll love it." Skimming over the ad again, Laura added, "Besides, what child, or adult, wouldn't want their own beach? Plus, getting away from family will be a positive move. I adore Uncle Brad and Aunt Emily, they were terrific second parents to me when I spent so many afternoons at your house, but you yourself have said they fuss and worry too much. I won't even begin to list the ways it'd be bonus to escape Harriet and Hazel."

"No need," Carolyn dryly remarked.

"See? I wouldn't tell Blair what you're up to, either. He'll try to talk you out of it and start the proposing spiel again. Out of respect for you being a widow, he's held off, but that'll last only so long."

"I told you already I won't marry him."

"He'll still be a pest. Carolyn, you lived your life to please Bobby for years, now you're trying to keep all of us who are concerned about you happy. Honey, it's time to do something for yourself and the kids. This is perfect."

"You really think so?"

"Wouldn't say so if I did not, now would I? My only caution would be, don't tell anyone where you are going or that you are. Blair's not the only one that'd try to keep you here and the others would apply guilt."

"You are right."

"Naturally."

They shared a grin.

"So, are you going to do it?" Laura asked. "Do you have long left on your lease of this place?"

"Such as it is?"

"Hey, I never said that!"

"No, but I've thought it a dozen times, and I can see what guests think of it," Carolyn nodded. "It's a come down from what Bobby and I had, but at least it's not a home built on lies." Her lips twisted bitterly. They'd still be in that house, or at least something nicer, if only the rat she'd married hadn't felt obligated to make rent payments on a much classier apartment for his mistress. She would not even think about the receipts she'd found hidden in the very back of a desk drawer for all the gifts he had given a succession of other women. "The lease is monthly, so there's no question of getting out of it. Getting enough furniture of our own to fill a new house, Laura, I'm not sure we can manage that. This place came with furniture and we filled in a few gaps, but still--"

Her cousin read through the description of Gull Cottage again. "Did you miss seeing that it comes furnished? The rent isn't that bad, really, with that aspect thrown in."

"I wonder what's wrong with it?" Carolyn speculated.

"Don't be a pessimist," Laura chided. "Maybe the owner simply wants to offer a good price so he won't have to have it sitting there for months or years not turning a profit. Or maybe he's totally unaware of its true value?"

"I guess that could be?"

"Or he could be a kind soul who wants to offer a good deal."

"I doubt that."

"Me too, but stranger things happen."

XXX

By the time the family had returned home, Carolyn had reached her decision. Once the shopping had been put away, she gathered Martha, Jonathan, and Candy around the kitchen table. She had rehearsed a half a dozen ways to open this conversation, but now that it was time, was drawing a blank. Finally, she just simply said, "How do you all feel about moving?"

Candy and Jonathan exchanged glances, their expressions unsure. Martha seemed to sum it up best with her answer, "Depends on where to. Are we going to have to move in with the Muirs?" Inherent in her question was, did she need a new job, because she knew Ralph would not need her services.

"No."

Before Carolyn could elaborate, Candy jumped in, "Mom, I promise we'll keep Scruffy quieter and we won't play loudly at all, ever. And, you can have what's in our piggy banks to help with the rent."

"Yeah," Jonathan nodded, though he wasn't happy with the notion.

"I could take a pay cut; you do give me room and board, so what do I need extra for?" Martha offered.

"That won't be necessary. We are not being asked to leave because of anything anyone has done or being behind on the rent," Mrs. Muir promised. "I want us to live somewhere better, less cramped, and where everyone can have a bed." On this note, she looked at Martha. "If you all agree, I found a place in Maine that looks right for us. If it's available still, I want to begin making plans to go soon, before the school year starts."

"So, we're going to be living in a better house? Not going downward?" Martha frowned.

"That's the hope," Carolyn affirmed. "To a place called Gull Cottage. I haven't called yet, but the rent listed is not that much different from what we pay here, and being away from the city, the cost of living might be lower. I did talk it over with Laura, and she thinks we need a fresh start. So do I. If you all are willing, it's goodbye Philly, hello Schooner Bay. It's a beautiful house, to see the one picture and it has its own beach, and—"

"Wow!" the kids chorused, too excited not to interrupt.

"And you'll need me?" Martha wanted to know.

"Absolutely, more than ever, I'm sure. Besides, we don't want to starve."

XXX

Now that Carolyn knew she had her family's support, first thing in the morning, she dialed the number for Gregg Real Estate. On the second ring, a very-harried voice announced, "Claymore Gregg's office, answering all your real estate, insurance, financial planning, and notary republic needs."

"I'm calling about Gull Cottage."

"Ah – ah -- er -- is there a problem?"

Mystified, Carolyn blinked, collected her thoughts, and tried again. "Has it already been rented then?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"You wanted to know if I had a problem, so I assumed that you thought I was the current tenant. It's vacant?"

"Very vacant, it's the most vacant place in New England. There's nothing there, not even a gh- er -- mouse. Absolutely no pests, of any kind," he babbled. "Sometimes people just drop in -- it's very historical, so people want to look, and I can't be held responsible for what happens when people trespass. Not that anything has happened, but you never know."

"Okay. I'm glad to hear that. So, we can discuss me taking out a lease on it?"

"You mean you want to rent it? Really?"

"I saw the ad in _Maine Life_ and it sounds ideal for my family. I should introduce myself; I'm Carolyn Muir."

"I'm Claymore Gregg, but I already told you that, didn't I? I assume Mr. Muir is agreeable to this transaction?"

"I'm a widow," Carolyn admitted. "So, it hardly matters, but my children and housekeeper agree, and I'm going to guess that the dog says it's all right with him. Pets are allowed, I hope?"

"Of course, of course. So are children and housekeepers. Now, let's start talking turkey, or better yet, money." On the other end of the line, the realtor gave a gleeful chuckle that reminded Carolyn of a small boy opening some much-wanted Christmas present.

XXX

It took more than one call and several of them to bankers and so forth. Carolyn had to be very careful to keep word from getting to the Muirs about what she was planning. Despite her initial intention only to let Jack and Laura know what she was up to, Carolyn did break down and tell her parents what she intended to do. Though sometimes their affectionate protective streaks felt a tad smothering, she loved them dearly and did not want to risk hurting them. However, her desire to keep it from Harriet, Hazel, Ralph, Marjorie, and Blair was something they truly did understand and agreed to comply with her wishes.

Packing was, of course, not much fun, but they would not be taking much. Mr. Gregg had promised Gull Cottage came fully furnished and ready for them, so taking their beds and other such things seemed foolish and expensive. Selling what they had that did not belong to the current apartment would help with moving expenses and cut back on what Carolyn might have to accept from Jack. For instance she was more than glad to be able to have a good reason to pawn Robert Muir's engagement ring; adding the money it brought in to the moving fund, but unspoken rules of etiquette regarding widows and wedding rings won out, and her wedding band remained on her left hand.

Naturally, there were plenty of mixed feelings about the move. Though excited at the fresh start, the kids would miss their friends and grandparents, both sets, Martha and Carolyn each had friends and family they'd be leaving behind. However, there were also plenty of sad memories and ties that needed to be cut to balance out things. Brad and Emily did make a few attempts to dissuade her, but in the end, knew that once their little girl made up her mind, it was made up well and good. The best they could do was wish her well and be as supportive as possible.

Finally, on September 20, 1968, a too old station wagon began its journey to Maine, loaded down with the Muir family and their remaining worldly goods, headed toward a new life, and their destiny…

XXX

"I'm quite sorry now, more so than ever, that I never met Jack and Laura," Daniel Gregg rumbled as his wife concluded reading the first chapter of their book aloud. "Aside from Brad and Emily, they sound like the best of your relatives, not counting your three children." Hearing all about how condescending Ralph and Marjorie had been to his lady had reminded him that they were also very cold to Jenny, Jack and Laura Williams' daughter, and Carolyn and his foster one, so the ghost deliberately referred to her as theirs. "One question, my love… you used all real names here, not the fake names we set up… Edward Smythe, Kathleen Jones and so on."

Carolyn shrugged. "They'll be changed. It's just that I was writing this one from my memories, not our joint memories, all new territory, as it were, and it was easier not the change the names the first go-round. "I'm glad you like Jack and Laura, Daniel but…" She frowned.

"What is it, dear lady?"

"I still want to change my name in the story," she added.

"Why are you so opposed to Kathleen?"

"Well, if we leave me as that, then we can change YOUR character's name to -- oh, how about Bobby Thompson or Blair McNally, or Somebody-Callahan?" Her eyes twinkled.

Thunder rumbled and the sky began to darken.

"Exactly," Carolyn nodded smugly. "I'd be equally against being dubbed with Melanie or Vanessa as a fictional name. Okay, I'd be twice as opposed to Vanessa, since you DID nearly marry her."

"Somehow, I doubt that even had I not been so rudely jilted, that it would have come to pass," Daniel mused, popping over to Carolyn's side so he could kiss her gently. "She had a fatal flaw that would have, pardon the pun, killed our future."

"Oh?"

"Yes. She was not you."

"Good answer," she said, giving her ghost a very warm kiss.


End file.
